The Price We Pay
by KayValo87
Summary: A look through Sam's eyes at the life of a Winchester.


Hey everybody.

So the last week has been kinda a downward spiral for me emotionally and I hit rock bottom yesterday. It was just one of those days were everything seems to be working against you. (I'm sure you know what I mean.) But then I started texting my friend Adam. His support and (slightly twisted) sense of humor helped bring me back. (It kinda made me think of the way Dean cheers up Sam when he is feeling down.)

So this one-shot is for Adam, even though he has not seen the show. (Yet ... ;) ) I hope the rest of you enjoy it as well.

**IMPORTANT NOTE:** I started writing this when I was in a dark place and continued to work on it as my mood improved. I'm not sure what effect that has on my writing as it is hard for me to notice that sort of thing in my own work. However, this is my first (and at the moment my only) story without censorship. In other words, **I didn't block out any curse words**. (Like I said, dark place.) I'm not sure how comfortable I am with it, but I figure you guys will let me know if it works okay.

**DISCLAIMER:** I still do not own Supernatural or the Winchesters ... but I do have a small plastic Impala. :)

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**April 3 1997**

Sam stifled another yawn, trying in vain to bring the page into focus. This was ridiculous. He wasn't even in high school yet and already he was pulling all nighters. Not on homework, that wasn't important this weekend. No, Sam and his brother had just spent the last … he grimaced as he checked his watch … sixteen hours researching what was killing people in their latest town. The name of said town had faded from his memory somewhere between chapter three of book two and chapter two of book three … or was that the other way around? Holy crap he was tired!

"How's it coming, Sammy?" Dean asked, returning to his seat at the table.

He set another energy drink next to the empty ones surrounding the younger teen. As grateful as he was, Sam would much rather be handed a pillow. Not that he needed one at this point, he could probably fall asleep walking.

"How much longer do we have to do this?"

"You heard Dad," Dean shrugged, pulling over his current text. "We can stop when we can kill it."

"Dude, trying to kill it is going to kill us," Sam groaned. "Isn't there some kind of child labor law against this?"

"You know if you stop whining it will go faster."

"Shut up."

The brothers fell into silence, mostly because both were too tired to argue any longer. Two drinks later Dean went out to the 24-hour mini-mart to get more snacks and caffeine. After finishing his current text Sam debated the punishment for insubordination against the call of his bed. Knowing that Dean would never let him sleep, much less Dad, he decided he better just press on. With a heavy sigh, he pulled over the next text and started flipping through it. That's when it happened. He found it. Sam read over it again just to be sure and nearly cried in relief. Snatching up the phone he dialed his dad and blurted out the information as soon as he answered.

"Alright," John replied gruffly. "Pack up. We'll leave as soon as I get back."

"But Dad," Sam protested. "Dean and I have been up all night."

"You can sleep in the car."

With that John hung up and Sam threw the phone against the wall, narrowly missing his brother as he came through the door.

"Take it easy," Dean said, carrying a brown paper bag over to the table. "I got you your cupcakes."

"I found how to kill that stupid son of a bitch that Dad's chasing." Sam growled, pushing a stack of books off the table and on top of the bag they go in.

"So … naturally you decide to trash the room."

He nodded in mock understanding and started unloading the junk food. Turning away from the books, Sam stormed over and starting shoving everything back into the bag. After all, they wouldn't have time to eat before they left town again.

"Whoa," Dean grabbed Sam's wrist and took the doughnuts out of them. "What is your deal?"

"We have to pack," Sam snapped, wrenching his arm free. "Dad said we're leaving as soon as he's done with the hunt."

"Okay," his older brother said calmly. "So why don't you get your stuff together and I'll pack the rest."

"We shouldn't have to pack at all."

Sam slumped onto the couch, flopping over so his head rest ed on the arm. He was so tired he could cry and so mad he … ARG! He was too exhausted to even finish that thought!

"Come on Sammy," Dean coaxed, helping him back to his feet. "The sooner we're packed the sooner you can sleep."

He nodded in response and stumbled over to his bed. By the time they had everything ready to go the sound of the Impala announced their departure. And as Sam stretched over the back seat, trying to stay on it as his father drove across the most poorly maintained road in history, he had only only thought.

The last eighteen hours better have been worth it.

**October 10 2000**

Ignoring that nearly crippling pain in his leg, Sam drove toward the hotel, casting a wary glance at his brother. Dean was nearly past out in the passenger seat, head resting on the window. Though his breathing still sounded good, the sheen of sweat on his pale face still tightened the knot of worry in the teen's gut.

"Dude, watch the road," Dean mumbled.

Shifting his gaze back, he maneuvered the Impala around a slow moving truck only to get stuck behind a slower moving mini-van. Dear God, did no one know how to drive in … whatever town they were currently in. He was doing better with a busted ankle! Taking the next turn to get out from behind the van … he found himself stuck behind a tractor. He hated farming communities.

"Damn it," Sam growled, slamming his palm into the steering wheel.

"Hey," Dean scolded, weakly smacking his arm. "What did baby ever do to you?"

Rather than dignify that with a response, Sam took a quick turn as soon as he could and ignored the chorus and car horns he left in his wake. He probably should be more careful, the last thing he needed was a ticket while his brother bled out next to him …

"Sam, the road," Dean grunted.

Trying to focus on not getting pulled over, or go off the road, the teen finally managed to get them both back to their hotel. Nearly jumping our of the car, he limped quickly to the other side just as Dean was stumbling to his feet. Without a word, he looped his brothers arm over his shoulders and the two supported each other short walk to the room. Once inside, Sam ushered him to the bed and hobbled off in search of the first aid kit.

"Here," he offered, holding out a flask.

"Ah," Dean sighed, taking a swig and handing it back. "I love it when we have to good stuff."

Sam wished he could maintain his brother's good mood, but that was a little hard when he peeled back the makeshift bandage to reveal several gashes across Dean's back and side. Damn bitch and her stupid blades. The one and only bright side was the fact that none were very deep. Still, that didn't put the situation anywhere near okay.

"You just gonna stare at them all night?"

"Sorry."

Quickly sterilizing the needle, Sam tied off a few dozen stitches in a neat rows before wrapping most of his brother's torso in clean gauze. As he finished up he shot Dean another concerned glance. He had lost a lot of blood and was almost dead on his feet. Dad better get back from the blood bank quick or else he was going to screw regulations and take his brother straight to the hospital.

"I'm okay, Sam. You need help with yours?"

"No, I got it," the teen assured him. "It's just a sprain."

"Whatever, gimpy. Let me know if you change your mind."

Though the trademark Winchester toughness was conveyed in Dean's tone, the statement was betrayed as he weakly leaded back against the pillows. His brother was not okay. Hell, he was not okay. The whole damn hunt had been not okay from the start. But would his Dad listened to him? No. Instead Sam got thrown down the stairs, John got his hand pinned to the wall with a knife, and Dean was sliced and diced before they finally managed to burn the bitch. And as he kept watch over his brother's sleeping form, gingerly wrapping his swollen ankle, he couldn't help the one thought that kept running through his head.

This had better have been worth it.

**August 27 2007**

Sam slammed into a chair and felt it shatter beneath him. With a groan, he pulling himself torn between trying to find his knife and looking up to see where the lamia was. Or better yet, where was Dean? The sound of a body hitting a wall answered that question and the younger hunter looked up just in time to bitch's tail before it slammed into his chest. Temporarily loosing the ability to breath, Sam was a bit slower getting up that time and found himself crushed under the massive snake-like body. Gasping for air, he frantically felt around him for something, anything, to hit her with. But even among the debris of the old cabin, he came up empty and could only watch as her razor sharp teeth came closer to his face, her eyes hungry for blood.

"Sam!"

His brother's shout came right before something struck the side of the lamia's head and she turned away from Sam, and she shot across the room. Sucking in a lungful of air, he became painfully aware of the damage to his ribs, but he would have to deal with that later. Right now he had to help Dean. Forcing himself up, Sam looked up in horror as the monster squeezed his brother's chest in the coils of her massive tail, all the while rearing up with her jaws wide to taste the flesh of his neck.

"Hey!" Sam yelled, hoping to bring her attention back on him. "Come and get me Nagini!"

It worked. She dropped Dean and sprang towards him. Grabbing up a broken table leg, Sam managed to shove it into her mouth before she tore out his throat, but the force of the creature's tackle was still enough to knock him off his feet. Laying on his back with both hands on his makeshift weapon to keep her back while her serpentine body coiled over his, Sam was beginning to rethink his plan.

"A little help here!"

When he didn't hear a response, aside from the cracking of the table leg, Sam started to worry that Dean might have been knocked out. It that was the case they were both screwed, not to mention the three little kids the lamia had locked away. As he only defense started to snap, Sam's mind raced, trying to find a way out of this mess. Suddenly there was a loud crack and the weight pressing on his hands was gone. The monster slumped to the side, a low hiss rattling in her chest, and Dean standing over her with a rusty shovel.

"Nagini?"

"It's from Harry Potter."

"Whatever, Dumbledork."

He reached down t help Sam to his feet, shoving aside the heavy coils. The lamia moved slowly told them, only to be struck in the head by the rusty shovel once more.

"You have to actually crush it," Sam reminded him.

"I know, I'm not an idiot," Dean replied indignantly, tossing the shovel aside in favor the the sledgehammer they had brought with them. "Go get the kids, I'll finish up here."

Sam nodded and checked to small cabin, finding a set of stairs in what had once been the kitchen. Heading down into the cellar, the hunter flicked on his light and shown it around the room. Small bones littered the dirt floor, remnants of the lamia's past victims. Swallowing down the grief at the number of young lives the snake-like creature had cut short, Sam kept looking around. Letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing the iron cage in the corner, complete with three pairs of frightened eyes, he headed that way.

"Hey," Sam said gently, smiling at the siblings. "It's okay. I came to take you home."

He quickly opened the cage and led the kids upstairs. Normally he would carry them, but getting crushed a few times made it a bit hard. Of course trying to keep the kids moving when each acted as if the lamia would jump out at them from every corner or doorway wasn't exactly easy either. One, a five-years-old named Julie, was latched onto his left hand while her older brother Devon, age six, took the right one. The smallest brother Nicky, who just turned three, was trying to hold onto his leg, but wasn't having much luck since he needed it to walk. They had almost reached the door when the girl screamed, causing the other two to jump and all three nearly tackled Sam. He turned, ready to kill whatever the threat one, only to see Dean standing in the doorway of the living room holding a blood spattered sledgehammer.

"Dude, really?"

Dean looked down at the hammer before lowering it and giving the kids a smile.

"It's okay. I'm one of the good guys."

Luckily he choose that time to head outside and Sam crouched down as well as he could to try and reassure the kids.

"That's my brother," he explained. "He is gonna keep the monster from hurting you."

"Did he smash it's head with the hammer?" Devon questioned.

"Sure did," Dean grinned, walking back in with some lighter fluid. "Sam, you might want to get them out of here before things get hot."

Nodding in agreement, Sam ushered the kids outside, but they all panicked once again at the sight of the car. Now what?

"I don't wanna go in a Hershey car!" Nicky wailed, wrapping his arms around Sam's knee. "No angel box!"

"You said we were gonna be okay!" Devon accused, yanking on one of his arms. "You lied!"

"Please don't put us to sleep in an angel box!" Julie cried, tugging on the other.

Hershey? Angel box? What the- oh! As realization dawned, Sam didn't know weather to laugh or groan. They thought he was putting them in a hers. Dean was gonna love this.

"It's not a … Hershey car," he assured them, opening the back door. "See? No angel box."

This seemed to calm the kids down, but only after he got into the backseat with them. Now the Impala was by no means a small car, but the back seat was not designed to hold three kids plus a man his size. Add to that the fact his ribs were at least bruised, if not cracked, and ride back was not a pleasant one … well, not physically.

"Sam?" Devon questioned. "How long have you and your little brother killed monsters?"

"Whoa," Dean called from the front. "Sam is my little brother, not the other way around."

"But you're littler," Julie reasoned.

"Yeah, big brothers are bigger," Devon agreed. "Look at me and Nicky."

"Give it twenty years and then call me," Dean shot back."

After almost an hour sitting underneath three kids, they finally reached there destination. Once they saw where they were, the kids couldn't get out fast enough and all three bolted the second Dean opened the door, jabbing Sam with at least two elbows and a knee into his already sore rib cage. Not wanted to stick around for the awkward questions, such as how they found the missing siblings and why they were covered in blood, the two hunters waited only until the parents opened the door to pull away. Stretching out across the backseat, much like he had as a kid, Sam gazed out the back window and smiled at the tearful reunion happening at the door. For all the sleepless nights and painful fights, it was moments like this that kept them going.

This is what made it worth it.

**END**

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Well, what do you think?

Let me know while I get back to work on the chapter that doesn't want to be worked on. (AKA, the next part of "Cat's Eye.")


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